Icebreaker
by PwnedByPineapple
Summary: Alfred's Christmas party does not go exactly as planned, and Natalia isn't really helping matters. America/Belarus.


**Title:** Icebreaker  
><strong>Author:<strong> PwnedByPineapple  
><strong>Summary:<strong> _Alfred's Christmas party does not go exactly as planned, and Natalia isn't really helping matters. Belarus/America._  
><strong>RatingsWarning(s):** K; none  
><strong>Notes:<strong> A sequel, of sorts, to "You're Awful, I Love You", my first Belmerica fic. It isn't entirely necessary to read that, however, though it is recommended.

**Disclaimer: This fangirl owns nothing. If she did, this pairing would be canon. _Canon_, I tell you.  
><strong>

* * *

><p>Snow <em>sucked<em>.

This conclusion, which Alfred F. Jones inevitably reached every year, was yet again at the forefront of his mind when the day before Christmas Eve rolled around. As was its habit, the weather had taken to ruining his plans more effectively than if he had accidentally screwed them up himself.

"What do you _mean _you can't make it?"

"I _told_ you," came Arthur's customarily irritated voice, scratchy and barely distinguishable thanks to a terrible cell connection, "we're snowed in. No one... _out_ of the airport!"

His voice kept cutting out, but Alfred got the gist of it. The snowstorm that raged outside his house had trapped practically everyone he'd invited to his Christmas party at the airport. Taxis and rentals weren't even running, such was the ferocity of the storm, and there was virtually no way for the nations to get out without being immediately frozen.

"I'll call you wh- ... able to leave... -ust have to deal." Arthur didn't sound to happy about the end of his statement. "Francis is already try- ... spin the bottle..."

Alfred could interpret _that_ well enough. "Good luck," he said, heaving a sad sigh. Stupid snow. "Sorry 'bout this."

"I guess I c- ... forgive you," Arthur said grumpily. "I..." But the scratchiness of the line suddenly surged, followed by the line going completely dead, and Alfred was left with the whine of a dropped call. He set the phone down, scowling. Man, why did snow have to ruin everything? And speaking of snow...

"How the hell did _you_ make it through?" he demanded, turning to face Ivan, who was reclined on one of the couches in the living room, having no doubt been listening to Alfred's side of the conversation.

The large nation gave him a serene smile; he and his sisters had been the first and now the only guests to show up, having taken a slightly earlier flight. "It is just snow, da? I assume the others are trapped at the airport?"

"Yeah," Alfred said unhappily, but a moment later he brightened. "Well, we'll just have to make the best of it, then! The snow can't last forever! We can..."

The power went out.

Ivan stood up and shook his head at the slumped form of Alfred, who'd fallen onto one of the chairs in despair at the sudden darkness. "I will go and check on the others in the kitchen while you are wallowing," said Ivan, stepping past the couch towards the dining area.

With a long sigh, Alfred jumped to his feet once more, wearing a determined little frown; he was not going to let the storm stop him from enjoying himself. "I'm not _wallowing_," he said petulantly, following Ivan.

Toris's head poked out the kitchen as they approached, looking worried. He, along with Matthew, had been recruited by Alfred to help prepare for the party. "Eduard just called," he said. "They're..."

"... stuck at the airport. Arthur told me." Alfred sighed again. "Looks like it's just us. Sorry for making you go to all that trouble."

Toris smiled reassuringly. "It's no problem. But..." he began to look concerned again, "there's quite a lot of extra food, and we can't use the refrigerator because the power is out. It's going to go bad if we can't freeze it."

"I've got some ice chests in the garage. They'll work fine." Alfred tapped Ivan on the shoulder. "Help me get 'em."

"In a moment," Ivan said, and Toris moved out of the way as the large nation peered into the kitchen. Matthew and Yekaterina were busy cleaning up from the cooking that had previously been going on, and Natalia was seated at the counter where Ivan had asked her to stay, gazing at a glass of wine as if debating whether or not to drink it.

"You guys okay in here?" Alfred called over Ivan, who seemed utterly relieved to find Natalia where he'd left her and not ominously disappeared.

Matthew waved a dish rag at Alfred, smiling. "We're fine," he said. "We finished cooking just in time."

"It's way dark in here!" Alfred exclaimed; he could barely see his brother or anyone else. "I've got some flashlights and lanterns laying around. Mattie..."

"I know where they are," the northern twin said with a nod. "I'll get them. Go and get the ice chests."

Alfred nodded, and a moment later Natalia stood, imperious eyes sweeping over Ivan and Alfred. "I will help," she said.

"That isn't necessary," Ivan said at once.

"I am tired of sitting here," she informed them, and her tone didn't invite argument. "So I will help you to get the ice chests."

"Um... thanks," Alfred said, because everything was _really_ awkward after the _last_ time he'd been near her in an informal setting. He still wasn't quite sure _what_ had happened. "They're this way." As he took the lead, he could feel both of them behind him... Natalia and Ivan, the living epitomes of ice themselves. He was sure Ivan was glaring at him, too, because the large nation hadn't forgotten the last time, either.

* * *

><p>Who knew gathering ice chests could be <em>that<em> awkward?

Alfred had already given up trying to explain that he hadn't kissed Natalia all those months ago, she'd kissed him. But Ivan was still pissed about it whenever reminded, which didn't make any sense to begin with. Alfred thought Ivan hated having Natalia around, but God forbid any male show interest in her.

Not that Alfred was interested. Not at all. Never.

It made for some really thick silence as they lugged ice chests out of the garage. Ivan glared whenever Alfred even came within touching distance of Natalia, and Natalia, for her part, was just so damn confusing with so many mixed signals that Alfred didn't even try to initiate conversation or help her to carry anything. They managed to get several ice chests into the kitchen, and that was when Yekaterina raised an important, painfully obvious question.

"Don't we need ice?" she asked worriedly.

Alfred deflated where he stood. Oh. Wait. That would help. "There's not a lot in the fridge, either," he said. "Crap, where are we gonna get ice?"

"I don't know if you've noticed," Ivan said pleasantly, "but it is snowing outside."

"Go out in the blizzard? Hell no!"

Ivan raised an eyebrow at him. "Well, if you are too scared, then I shall go."

"As will I," added Natalia.

Alfred sneaked a glance at her, swearing to himself. He'd give anything not to go out into that frozen wasteland that was his front yard, but he couldn't very well make her - them - do all the work in _his_ house. "I'm not _scared_," he said, perhaps a bit louder than necessary. "I'll come!"

* * *

><p>As it turned out, he probably should have just let them handle it.<p>

They had to drag the ice chests back to the garage and get thoroughly bundled up before Alfred opened the garage door, and as soon as the biting wind hit them, he regretted offering his services. It was so _cold_! He clutched his layers of coats to himself and eyed the thick, piled up snow in apprehension. There was more than enough, growing by the minute, but he didn't want to be anywhere near it right now.

Still... Natalia was watching, and for some reason, he didn't want to look like a coward in front of her.

Packing snow into the ice chests sucked. Alfred's gloves were supposed to be water-resistant, but within minutes they were soaked, and he was freezing all over. With his teeth chattering, he waded carefully into the drifts and brought back the cleanest snow he could.

On one particular instance of doing this, when he was too far outside the protection of the garage walls, a ridiculously strong gust of wind came up all of a sudden and blew snow directly into his eyes. He spluttered, backpedaling, and lost his footing completely, plunging into a particularly thick drift. He yelped, disoriented and unable to find any purchase, and it was too damn cold! Everything was white and freezing and wet, and he was surrounded by snow, and then...

Natalia pulled him up by the arm as he spluttered, tugging him the last few steps into the safety of the garage before he was quite aware of what was happening. As slightly warmer air hit his face, he blinked in surprise at her and felt his face beginning to heat up more than the air of the garage warranted.

"T-T-Thanks," he said, shivering so badly that it took effort to force the word out. Oh, man. Hadn't they been here before? Had to be the fourth time by now.

"You are not very used to snow," Natalia said, shaking her head. She hadn't let go of his arm yet, and she dismissively brushed snow off of herself and him. "I think you should stop for now."

How was it that she was always saving him? He was the hero! It was supposed to be the other way around! "G-Guess y-you're right," he said, and as Ivan emerged from outside carrying more snow, Alfred jumped away from Natalia and busied himself with checking the ice chests.

"Did you go swimming in it?" Ivan asked, eyeing him somewhat suspiciously as the large nation packed the last ice chest.

"N-Not intentionally," Alfred muttered. "I t-think t-they're all f-full."

"Well, let's start bringing them back." Ivan lifted one onto his shoulder, and Alfred made to do the same, but Natalia pushed him away.

"No," she said bluntly. "You need to warm up. You are shaking too much."

"B-But-"

"Go inside," she told him coldly.

Arguing with her was the last thing he wanted to do. Alfred nodded, trying to ignore the increasingly suspicious glances that Ivan was giving him, and retreated rather gratefully into the house proper, heaving a great sigh as the warmer air enveloped him. The heater may have been down with the power, but it felt like heaven to someone who'd just emerged from a frozen hell. Alfred could hear Natalia and Ivan behind him, and he led the way back to the kitchen, where the others waited with the food that needed to be chilled.

"Alfred!" Toris said in concern. "You're soaked!"

"I t-took a little f-fall," Alfred responded, trying to grin. "I-I'm okay."

Matthew very patiently rolled his eyes. "Come on," he sighed. "Start getting those coats off."

Alfred's joints were stiff with cold, but with his brother's help, he managed to get all the soaked overcoats and gloves off as Natalia and Ivan continued to bring the ice chests back into the kitchen once more. Toris and Yekaterina packed the food into them, and Matthew made Alfred bundle himself in blankets and sit in the living room on one of the sofas.

Alfred found himself alone for a moment, listening to the others moving around in the kitchen. Okay. It was official - next year, he was hibernating. Jeez, could this have turned out any worse? His plans were ruined, he was chilled to the bone, and he was just so confused. It didn't make any sense. He'd thought he was good with women.

By the time he realized that his thoughts were wandering in a dangerous and embarrassing direction, he was no longer alone.

Everyone was coming into the living room now that the food had all been packed away. There was little else to do; they'd have to weather the storm and the lack of power for the time being, and soon, the others had all gathered in the room, spread out on the various recliners and couches. Alfred was keenly aware of the fact that Natalia sat down on _his_ sofa - granted, she was on the opposite end, deliberately far from him, but _still_. God, this was so weird.

Avoiding the gaze of Ivan, who'd chosen an armchair opposite Alfred and who seemed determined to stare him down, Alfred looked around at the others, wracking his brain for a moment. He had to make this enjoyable for them. It was his fault for choosing a lousy day to hold a party, but that didn't mean it had to be miserable.

He glanced to the side, at Natalia, and a daring thought seized his mind.

"Hey," he said, drawing everyone's attention, "you guys wanna tell scary stories?"

Matthew frowned at him. "Al," he began, and it was plain to see he was thinking of the southern twin's aversion to freakiness of any sort, but Alfred flashed him a bright smile that shone even in the semi-darkness.

"I'm serious," he said. "There's nothing better to do. It's dark, it's the middle of a storm, why not?"

* * *

><p>Why not indeed. He was such an idiot.<p>

The lights had all been doused, the wind was howling, and Alfred found himself stuck with a Halloween tradition two days before Christmas. He'd volunteered to go first, of course - he didn't want to make anyone uncomfortable - but no one seemed very impressed by his story. Okay, so, _maybe _he was making it a little less scary so that he wouldn't freak himself out. He didn't want to look like a total coward in front of Na- in front of everyone.

He pretty much utterly failed at scaring anyone by the time he was finished, and Ivan scoffed at him when it was done.

"That," the large nation said, '"is not how you tell a scary story. Let me go next."

Alfred had doubts about that, but he didn't want to argue with the guy, and plus, Natalia had snapped to attention at Ivan's words. Alfred _really_ didn't want to argue with her, either. So he tossed the only lit flashlight to Ivan, who caught it even in the dark, smiling very unpleasantly.

It was like he was _trying _to scare Alfred. Which, in retrospect, he probably was.

Alfred shivered, curling more deeply into his blankets, and tried not to let Ivan's tale affect him. But the Russian was so damn _good_. He used the light to excellent effect, highlighting his face and occasionally other's in an eerie way, and his voice was completely hypnotic, and the story he was telling really was very disturbing, and _oh, God, Alfred, don't freak out!_

It wasn't real. Of course it wasn't real. Who ever said it was? But Alfred had been cursed with an overactive imagination that clearly took mental steroids, because terrifying images were filling his brain, and he couldn't stop them. He hardly even noticed that he was moving. He was totally fixated on Ivan's story - or rather, trying to convince himself that it was just a story - and he failed to realize just what he was doing.

That is, until he reflexively reached out and, with a trembling hand, grabbed Natalia's arm.

He could feel her stiffen, and immediately he tried to pull away, but his hand had become locked on her arm, stiff with fear. Crap. She was going to get _so_ mad at any moment, and then what? Would she try to break his fingers or something? Would she punch him?

But she did nothing. She seemed to be as stiff as he was, even though he could hardly see her in the gloom. He couldn't even move, caught between two irrational fears, until Ivan's voice suddenly surged.

_"... and slashed his throat open in one swipe!"_

Alfred jumped, just barely containing a squeak, and instinctively moved closer to the nearest individual - Natalia... who, if possible, grew even stiffer. In the back of his mind, Alfred was wondering just what the hell was wrong with him. Was his sense of self preservation totally gone? Was his body totally rebelling against his mind? The latter seemed to be the case, because clearly he wasn't ordering it to curl up against Natalia like this.

Had he been a little less freaked out, he would have realized that he actually liked the contact, despite its dangers.

Natalia relaxed a little bit, and Alfred prepared himself for some sort of retaliation, but it never came. And he received the biggest shock of the day when he felt her hand awkwardly come to rest on his shoulder for a moment, possibly in a show of comfort.

What.

Ivan was nearing the end of the story. His flashlight began to roam about the room faster and faster as he neared his ultimate climax, and Alfred felt another thrill of horror. Okay, this idea sucked. He was never suggesting such a thing again, and he had no idea what had even possessed him to in the first place. But he seemed to be full of bad ideas today.

He tried to shut out Ivan's climbing voice, but then he heard Natalia whispering in his ear. "You should try to enjoy the story," she told him, barely audible, and admiration filled her voice. "Brother is a very good storyteller. Do not worry - nothing of what he says is real. It is just an old story."

More surprises. She was actually trying to _make him feel better_. How could one woman be so utterly unpredictable? Alfred nodded once, hesitantly, and pulled away a little. Thankfully, Ivan had reached the end of his story and finished it abruptly, completing the tale masterfully. Alfred heaved a sigh of relief, and a minute later Ivan flicked a lantern back on. Alfred jumped away from Natalia on instinct.

Yekaterina was next to Matthew. The female nation was applauding, while Alfred's brother was giving him a very pointed look. Oh, damn it - had he noticed? Or was he just concerned about Alfred's fear? Alfred avoided his gaze and looked to Toris, but the Lithuanian didn't seem to have noticed anything out of the ordinary. Neither, thankfully, had Ivan.

"You see?" Ivan said to Alfred.

"I could definitely get a few pointers from you," Alfred said ruefully, trying to appear as if he had not just been a quivering pile of fear.

Toris had half-turned around in his chair, gazing at the curtained window as if he could see out of it. "Listen," he told everyone, and they complied.

"What're we supposed to be hearing?" Alfred asked, puzzled.

"Nothing," Toris said rather excitedly. "I think the storm has stopped."

* * *

><p>The outdoors were pristine and sparkling, blanketed in thick white that was beautiful when one didn't have to think about clearing it away. And naturally, a snowball fight was taking place.<p>

It was Ivan, Matthew, and Natalia vs. Alfred, Toris, and Yekaterina. Alfred had been pretty reluctant to venture out into the snow once more, but an odd sort of determination had seized him, and Matthew was sharp enough to notice its source. The Canadian almost laughed. His brother seemed to have a soft spot for girls who were exceptionally strong-willed, though Matthew couldn't quite figure out when this had started or _why _Alfred seemed to have a growing interest in Natalia. She was, quite frankly, scary.

Still... as Matthew hurled a snowball at his brother and watched Alfred duck behind one of the cars, he had to admit that it was just Alfred's style to go for a girl who could kick his ass. And also one that seemed unattainable. Natalia had a freaky obsession with her brother, and Matthew couldn't see that going away anytime soon.

A moment later, he ducked as a barrage of snowballs came from Yekaterina and Toris, and as he moved to a safer location behind a tree, he saw Natalia ducking behind the same car whose shelter Alfred had taken refuge in.

Matthew's eyes widened as he wondered how _that _was going to end.

Ivan hurried behind the same tree as the Canadian, his arms completely devoid of snowballs. He'd seen the same thing that Matthew had, and his eyes narrowed dangerously, not moving from where Natalia had disappeared.

Well, that added another layer of complicating to the matter. Then again, Alfred was always doing reckless things.

"I really thought you didn't like having Natalia around," Matthew commented, and Ivan looked down at him in surprise, perhaps at the fact that he had noticed and was speaking on the matter at all.

A moment later, Ivan looked away. "She makes things very unpleasant at times," he admitted. "But she... she is my little sister, after all. And that _boy_ is not worthy of having her."

Matthew nodded in understanding; he supposed that was to be expected. "Well, you know," he ventured slowly, "Alfred's really a good guy... even if he _is_ an idiot. And if Natalia likes him," unlikely, but you never knew, "then she'd definitely be leaving you alone more. And maybe it'd help her to be more, eh... normal." Dimly, he wondered when he had suddenly turned into a matchmaker.

Ivan contemplated this. "You make a point," he conceded. "I am just having a hard time reconciling myself with the fact that my little sister may end up having feelings for _him_."

Matthew snorted in amusement. "Believe me, the rest of us would be just as shocked."

And then he received a face full of snow.

"Sorry!" Yekaterina called, giggling, and more snowballs began to rain down on them, courtesy of Yekaterina and Toris, who'd sneaked up on Matthew and Ivan while the latter two had been talking. And unfortunately for those latter two, neither had any ammo left.

* * *

><p>The day was just full of surprises.<p>

Alfred found himself face to face with Natalia once again. She'd ducked behind the same snow-covered car he was using as shelter (he was _not_ looking forward to digging it out), and now they stared at each other in surprise. Unfortunately for Alfred, Natalia still had a few snowballs, and he was completely out. There was no time to make any more. He was about to get barraged.

But Natalia did not make a move to attack him. Her eyes dropped down to the ground, and she seemed to be struggling to find words. "You are not having any more trouble with the snow?" she asked hesitantly.

He blinked in shock. She was concerned about him? "Um, nah," he said, after a few moments of processing this question. He shrugged once, grinning a little. "I'm okay with it when it's not trying to blow me down."

She nodded, frowning. "This is... a very nice event," she muttered, still not meeting his gaze. "It's... fun."

"Really?" Alfred asked in surprise. "I mean, the power's out, hardly anyone was able to come..." He trailed off, feeling oddly pleased by her words.

"I don't do such things often," she elaborated.

"I see," he said softly. "Well, y'know, if you ever wanna do something like this again... y'know, something fun or whatever... you're, ah, always welcome..."

Oh, God. Was he trying to ask her out? Were those words really leaving his mouth without his conscious consent? What was _wrong_ with him?

"Thank you," said Natalia. "Perhaps... in the future..."

And then she hurled a snowball at his face.

He fell back with a splutter, Texas going askew, and tumbled out from behind the car, trying to escape. Crap - he'd temporarily forgotten they were on different teams! And yet he found himself laughing as he ducked and tried to form his own defense, hurling a hastily-made snowball back at her.

Talk about unpredictable. What on Earth was he getting himself into?


End file.
